Unexpected Savior
by NintendoGal55
Summary: A bully worse than he could have imagined, even worse than Helga herself, but then, amidst the pain and terror, Arnold was faced with an unexpected savior.


**I came up with this idea earlier today, and wow was it unexpected! And yet, it's an interesting idea. **

**Arnold encounters Miranda Jameson, a fifth grader, a huge bully worse than Helga, Harold and Big Patty. She tortures Arnold mercilessly, both verbally and physically, to the point of scaring him to death...almost literally. **

**But then, Arnold soon comes to see a very unexpected savior...**

**The super special awesome friend of mine SuprSingr has written a lovely sequel! :D Go read it and give it some love! Remove the spaces. **http : // www. fanfiction. net / s / 5810522 / 1 / She _ Saved _ my _ Life #

--

How did this happen? Why did it happen? It all seemed to happen too fast, and whenever it would, Arnold was unable to properly process it. Not like he normally could have.

"I will get you for this, football face." Snarled the tall, red-haired girl with venomous hazel eyes glaring at him with pure hatred before she stormed away.

Miranda Jameson was a fifth grade girl, very tall, and had a muscled tone to her. No one, absolutely NO ONE, messed with her. Students even feared uttering her name out loud. She was a bully. A bully far worse than Helga and Big Patty combined, heck, she could even give Wolfgang a run for his money. Her parents also donated a lot of money to P.S. 118, so it was natural that often everyone and the faculty looked the other way when she caused trouble.

Since Arnold first encountered her, by complete accident, he had not heard nor felt the end of it from her.

_Arnold didn't even see it coming when he tripped, very much like Eugene would, and was quite a cliché situation if you thought about it. But that wasn't the worst part. _

_His tray had gone flying onto the stomach of a student who was walking in his direction, splattering all the food onto her shirt. All of the students around them gasped, and Arnold came to see that his tray had smacked onto Miranda. Miranda Jameson. This wasn't good. _

"_....You...football face...! Look at what you did!" Miranda yelled, and grabbed him off the floor by his collar. "You ruined my shirt!"_

"_I-I didn't mean to...I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, Miranda-I'm sorry!"_

"_Sorry isn't good enough, you piece of shit." Miranda snarled the curse word. "You ruined my shirt, and now you're gonna pay for it."_

_Arnold gulped. "O-Okay...how much?"_

_Miranda's eyes narrowed and he didn't have time to register her fist coming at his face._

Ever since then, whenever she saw him, she let him have it. Verbally, with insults ten times worse than he could have imagined, and even insults to his friends and family. Physically, getting beat up with no one to stop her, fearing that they too would get pummeled.

"_Fucker!"_

"_You stupid son of a bitch."_

"_Ugly football-faced loser!"_

"_Tranny!"_

The list went on. Getting worse and worse, not to mention as repetitive as a broken record. Arnold never thought he'd say it, but Helga's own teasing was actually a RELIEF to him now. At least she didn't lower herself to insulting him with personal matters or beating him up. Miranda though, she was worse. And try as he could have to tell, no one did a thing.

He would go home some days a week sporting a black eye and some bruises, making his household concerned. But he always said that it was just an accident. Though he could see they were now starting to figure something was going on.

Lately, he was scared to tell anyone, for fear of what Miranda would do.

"_If you tell ANYONE...I swear I will kill your whole family... Don't think I can't do it, football face!"_

Her threats burned in his mind, he walked tensely, almost always looking behind him, when asked what was wrong, he would say it was nothing or some other lame excuse.

The threats didn't stop there. Before long, she called his house.

"_I'm going to kill you, football face. Just you wait. I know where you live. You're going to die."_

At night he curled in his bed, on the verge of tears, huddled under his blankets, too scared to look out the windows of his skylight, fearing she would be up there staring down at him.

In the mornings he would check to make sure she wasn't around, and try to get at going about his day, though fear ate at his gut more than he felt before.

"_Fuck you!"_

"_I hate you, I hate you..."_

"_I'll make you feel the pain, football face."_

"_I'll give you something to cry about, you fucking worm!"_

Arnold never thought that this would happen. How could someone hate him so much, and want to hurt him so bad? His misery being her ultimate anticipation? How had he gotten so terrified of someone? How had he feared and hated someone so much when clearly he wasn't the type to hate?

Often he would question why Helga never made him feel this way. But of course, the answer was simple.

Helga was not like Miranda. She was all talk. She teased him of trivial things that although annoyed him, were nothing. She threatened to hit him plenty of times, but not once had she physically abused him. Sure she'd shoved him a couple of times, poked him, but that was about it.

On top of that, he liked her, and he tolerated her, more or less. He knew that deep down she was a good person, and definitely proved that a few times, even if at times it was hard to believe. But he knew it. Helga was a good person, and was capable of loving and caring just as he did. And he was right.

Helga, compared to Miranda, was an angel. She didn't do the things Miranda did, not at her level, anyway. Big time. And that was saying a lot.

Now today...

Arnold was on his way home, having been able to avoid Miranda today. She was in 5th grade, so thankfully they weren't in any of the same classes. Recess and lunch time were the danger hours, so were before and after school. But today, he was in the clear. Now he just had to get home.

He'd thought about asking Gerald to go with him, but he had been walking Phoebe home. He also decided to ask Helga, but he saw her leave before he could try.

So he was alone. Out of options. But he was going to make it, and hopefully not run into her.

"I can do this." Arnold said to himself. "I can make it."

Moments later, his luck turned in for the worse. Out of an alleyway, just as it began to rain, a hand grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into the crevice between two buildings. He yelped loudly, now seeing Miranda before him, glaring hard and angered.

"You were lucky today, football faced fucker." Miranda spat, squeezing his arm painfully. "Well I'm going to pound you, and you had better not scream or else you're fucking dead."

"M-Miranda, don't, please..." Arnold begged, out of options.

"Shut up, or I'll make it hurt worse."

Instantly, he was shoved up against the nearby brick wall, an oncoming fist meeting his cheek painfully. He would have fought back, since he could, but he was powerless against her, since he had tried once, with his karate skills, and only succeeded in agitating her and barely causing a scratch. She was far too tough for him. She had beat him worse, and he never tried fighting back again.

Unwittingly he began to cry, tears going down his face. This made Miranda now throw him to the ground and kick him in the side.

"Shut up! Stop crying, I'll make it hurt!"

She kicked him again, and just as he managed to get up, she gut-punched him, hard enough to make him fall back against a row of trashcans near a dumpster. The wind knocked out of him, Arnold groaned and felt ready to vomit, though it never came.

"You pathetic little worm." Miranda snarled venomously, placing her foot on his stomach. "I'll teach you a lesson even if it takes the rest of your miserable life! Which will end soon..."

She kicked him again, a crack of thunder sounding accompanied by a flash of lightning. Through pained, half-lidded eyes, he then saw Miranda now producing a knife. It wasn't a big knife, but it looked sharp and would definitely inflict damage, or worse, kill him.

"No...no...stop, please...you don't know what you're doing..."

"I said shut up!" Miranda growled and picked him up by the collar. "No one likes you, worm, it won't matter if you're fucking dead. It'll be my ultimate pleasure to kill you."

Shoving him against the wall, feeling a painful crack in his back, Arnold let out a whimper and felt weakened, in intense pain. He shut his eyes, waiting for the stabbing to begin, tears running down his face as it intermingled with the rain. She punched him hard, giving him yet another black eye.

But then, nothing came.

Instead, he felt Miranda falter and then get tugged away from him. She lost her grip on him and he fell to the ground. He opened his eyes, which were blurred, and could barely make out another figure now up against Miranda.

"Get off him!" A familiar voice screamed. That voice...

Arnold struggled to try to see clearly, but the rain and blurred vision weren't helping, but he could hear the distinct sound of punches and shoves, grunts and yells. Someone was shoved onto the ground with a pained yelp, but then whoever it was got right back up and a loud, sickening crunch was heard.

Red and blue lights flashed, and a squad car came pulling up to the curb in front of the alleyway, the voices of men now heard. A startled yell was heard, and then footsteps hurried away, with the sirens soon following too.

Rubbing his eyes, though his left arm hurt to move, Arnold managed to make out Miranda now having run away, and before him then was...

"Arnold...are you okay?" Came a familiar voice, that was in a tone he'd only heard once or twice before.

Concerned, terrified blue eyes met his gaze, as did a splash of blonde hair and a pink bow. Arnold focused, coming to see now that his suspicions had been right, it was Helga.

"H-Helga...?" Arnold uttered, trying to see better through his black eye.

Her arms came around him tightly, though gently so as not to hurt him, and held him against her. Arnold was surprised at her sudden act of affection, but he didn't dare move. She had just possibly saved his life, because if not for her, he would have been worse off than now, or dead. A traumatizing experience.

And yet...

Having her here, he could not have asked for anyone better.

"It's okay, Arnold..." Helga said to him tenderly. "I'll take care of you. I won't let her hurt you again. I'll make it all better."

Arnold wasn't sure if it was her embrace, her tender tone, her gentleness, her concern for him, her saving his life, or even that she was being nice without a tint of spite, but whatever it was, his heart warmed with adoration. He clung to her tightly, surprised by his own action, but he didn't care by this point. Someone knew of his troubles, and was helping him, more so than he could have ever asked for. He felt safe. He WAS safe.

And it was all because of Helga G. Pataki. The girl who was once his nemesis.

She was more than that now.

Helga didn't move from him. She just continued to kneel there, hugging him to her and whispering soothingly to him from time to time, as the rain fell all around them.

"T...Thank you...Helga..." Arnold managed, closing his eyes and furrowing his head into the crook of her neck.

For a moment he questioned this. Why, did Helga of all people, do such a wonderful thing? But of course, that answer was also obvious.

Love.

Helga was more than the girl who teased him mercilessly. More than the girl who called him football head and other ridiculous nicknames. More than the girl who's teasing was nothing compared to Miranda.

No.

She was his unexpected savior.


End file.
